


Home

by estherology



Category: Ochanomizu Rock - All Media Types
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 05:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17135918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estherology/pseuds/estherology
Summary: The Katayama brothers find their way back home again.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-stage. Spoilers for everything in Ochanomizu Rock drama and stage.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Katayama Hajime ripped the notice that had been stapled to his apartment door off and read it again to make sure that his eyes weren’t fooling him, but the printed words stood loud and clear. He groaned aloud. Today just wasn’t his day. First, the drinks supply for Southpaw didn’t come in as it was supposed to because of some traffic problem, something to do with overnight snow that had fallen over the whole of Tokyo. Then he had to work a double shift at his other job to pay for the studio rent, because Yuusuke was also struggling to pay his share. It was not that Hajime wasn’t already used to doing the menial labour, but doing it in the freezing cold was a different story. As if that wasn’t already enough, when he got to band practice, the amplifier wasn’t working properly, and they had to call off practice early. And now this–

Crumpling the paper in his hand, he strode down the hallway, his fists balled, and banged on the apartment door at the end of the hallway. Heavy footsteps preceded the door opening to reveal a pot-bellied old man, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips and wearing a singlet that had been white once but was now stained brown with who-knows-what. Hajime couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the smell of smoke.

“What?” the man grunted.

Hajime held up the now crumpled notice. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.

“It’s a rent hike, can’t you read?”

“What do you mean, a _rent hike?_ You just raised the rent last week, and now you want to raise it again?”

“The electricity bill went up.”

“That’s what you said last week.”

“Well, the water bill went up.”

Hajime very carefully resisted the urge to punch him in his yellowed teeth. “Sure it did,” he said. “Look, this hike is too high. I need at least a couple more months to be able to get that kind of money.”

The man took a long drag of the cigarette. “Look, you either pay up or you move out.”

“Wha–”

The door slammed in his face.

Hajime clenched his jaw. He raised his hand to knock again, and then decided it was not worth the effort. There was no convincing this guy.

Muttering about unreasonable landlords, Hajime stormed back into his apartment and slammed the door. He kicked off his shoes in a huff (and then turned back to make sure to line them up in a row by the doorstep, as his mother had always told him to) and dumped himself on the couch. His eyes flitted around his room.

His apartment wasn’t much. It was actually kind of small, almost cramped, but it was good enough for just him. Sure, the hot water didn’t always work and one of the lights went out every two weeks and there was paint peeling off parts of the wall, but this was home. From the magazines tossed lazily on the coffee table to the dusty Jeff Beck posters and postcards stuck on the wall to stacked old shoe boxes filled with useless memorabilia – it was all his, and only his.

This place had been his first apartment that he had ever gotten. It was the only place that had  _let_ him stay when he had nowhere else to go. The previous landlord had owed Masa-san a favour and had let him rent it at a bargain, which had been a relief for the wannabe band member freeter. But ever since the new landlord had replaced that nice old man, living here had just become less and less of a dream. The rent went up. Days with no heater became more frequent. If Hajime could, he would probably have packed up and left, as many of his neighbours had done, but this was still the cheapest apartment he could get in this area. He couldn’t afford anywhere else.

Briefly, he considered asking to move in with one of his band members, but quickly dismissed the thought. They had their own lives and had to deal with their own problems. It wouldn’t be right for him to add on to his friends’ issues, especially when their band was only just starting to get on their feet. They had enough problems to deal with as a struggling band as it is.

No, he would deal with this obstacle the same way that he had dealt with all his other problems for the past six years.

By himself.

* * *

As Katayama Ryo shut the door, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway made his penthouse apartment seem more hollow than usual.

With a grunt, he dumped his keys on the mahogany table and strode towards the radio, turning the volume up all the way. The song that they were playing was some trashy pop song with a recycled tune and generic, forgettable lyrics, but it was enough to fill the gaping silence for a short while.

Ryo didn’t like silence. Having grown up chasing big dreams about being a musician, he often had a pair of earpieces slung around his neck as a teenager as he lost himself in the songs of his favourite bands, and when he wasn’t listening to music, he was making it, strumming songs on his guitar and writing it down. Now, he might not write songs as often as he used to, but as a producer he spent a significant amount of time listening to tracks by the DIE is CAST, constantly working to refine their music, so that they could become the best band that they could be.

It seemed like sound had always been his companion. And it was in the absence of it when he felt like he was alone.

Ryo wasn’t the type of person who got lonely easily, no, his work running Crimson Sky Records occupied all of his attention too much of the time for him to think about anything else, but there were some days, certain days when the weather got cold and things started to slow down (because nobody wanted to work in the winter) when the feeling would sneak its way into him and lodge itself there like an unwanted pest in his otherwise pristine household. It was on these days, and only on these days, when he would seek out the comfort of a good bottle of sake, something that he swore only to do in the comfort of his own home to prevent any… _unfortunate_ accidents.

Ryo had found out that he wasn’t the strongest drinker very early, when he snuck a drink from his mother’s bar out of curiosity, and proceeded to get himself completely smashed with just a few tiny sips. His mother had come home to find him sitting on the floor giggling crazily and babbling nonsense to Hajime, who had found his brother’s strange behaviour totally hilarious and, much to Ryo’s mortification, taped down the whole thing to show to him when he sobered up. He had been fifteen then, and though much had changed in the past twelve years, the fact remained that he was still weak to alcohol. Not even his stint as a rock musician had changed that, despite all their post-performance after-parties.

But it was one of _those_ days, and with everything that had happened recently with DiC and Junya and his brother, he figured that he deserved something to take the edge off.

He slumped down on the sofa with a bottle he had grabbed from the fridge and poured himself half a glass. In between sips, he looked down at the swirling liquid in the glass and found his mind wandering back to the last time he had done this. It had been the day when Hajime had showed up outside his office building, the guitar that Ryo had given him slung over his back, to thank him for pulling the strings to get the chance for DYDARABOTCH to perform at Buzz Rock Future. Hajime had been open and hopeful and trusting, and in return, Ryo had grabbed his little brother by his sweater and swore to destroy his band’s dreams.

He still remembered how his fingers bunched up in Hajime’s sweater, stretching the knitted material till it almost tore as he dragged his little brother close. He remembered how the spark of hope in Hajime’s eyes snuffed out, and the heartbroken expression on his face when he realised the real reason behind Ryo’s request to get DYDARABOTCH into Buzz Rock Future.

Since then, so many things had happened, from uncovering Aramaki’s plot to sully Ryo’s name by using Hajime, to Junya coming back to try to revive THE CROW, and in between all of that, Ryo had realised that no matter how he tried to break the bond between them, his brother would always been a part of him, and no matter what happened between them, there was a part of Ryo would always care about Hajime – a part that he had tried to deny for so long, but no longer could ignore.

It was this part of Ryo that wondered whether Hajime would ever forgive him for what he had said and done before.

The pop song on the radio became grating on his ears. With an annoyed grunt, he flicked off the radio, and, in silence, he downed the rest of the alcohol in the glass.

* * *

When Kazuma Kuroiwa got a call from his President at 1 o’clock in the morning, he had thought that something terrible must have happened.

Instead, when he rolled over in bed and picked up the late night call, frantically asking, “President, what’s wrong?”, all he got was the mumbled question: “Kuroiwa, am I a bad brother?”

A beat of silence.

“President... are you drunk?”

In the years that Kuroiwa had worked for him, he had never seen President Ryo drunk. Ryo didn’t like drinking alcohol, and even when he was invited out for after-party celebrations, he politely declined and chose to go home instead.

But perhaps even rarer than President Ryo being drunk was the question of his brother.

The subject of Katayama Hajime had been something of a recent development for Kuroiwa, who had, prior to the last few months at least, not even known that President Ryo had a younger brother. Though the President was particularly tight-lipped on the subject of his family, Kuroiwa had gathered that they had only recently – and tentatively – reconnected. Things had never been so tense and chaotic as it had when Hajime re-entered President Ryo’s life, but Kuroiwa was thankful for it nonetheless, because ever since the brothers had started talking properly, there was a tension in President Ryo that had evaporated.

And yet–

“Are you okay, President?” Kuroiwa asked as he sat up in his bed and reached for his spectacles on his bedside table.

There was incoherent mumbling over the phone.

Kuroiwa sighed. “You’re at home, right? I’m coming over.”

It was a short drive to the President’s apartment, but when Kuroiwa arrived at the apartment, he realised that his fingers hurt from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. Wringing his hands, he rang the doorbell and waited. After a moment, the door opened to reveal Ryo, who was clutching the door handle to try to steady himself. He had taken off the blazer that he always wore at work, and his tie was unloosened, but it looked like he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes at all.

“What are you doing here?” Ryo said, his words badly slurred.

“You called me,” Kuroiwa said, “I came to see if you’re all right.”

The President squinted at him. “Did I?” he said. He leaned forward as if to get a better look at him and nearly fell over.

Kuroiwa steadied Ryo with his arm. “I think you should sit down.” He lightly pushed Ryo back into his apartment, guiding him to the sofa in the living room. After making sure that Ryo was properly settled, he went to the kitchen to fix him something to drink.

Ryo’s kitchen, Kuroiwa noted, seemed oddly untouched, with dust gathering on the electric glass induction stove. He supposed that with the long hours that Ryo pulled at work he didn’t get to cook at home often. Still, it seemed like a waste.

When Kuroiwa returned to the living room with a mug of warm water and set it down on the coffee table, he found Ryo sitting on the carpet with a faraway look in his eyes. “Ryo-san,” he said, gently nudging him by the shoulder, “you should drink.”

Ryo didn’t respond for a while. Kuroiwa thought that he might have not heard him, but Ryo turned to look at him, and then the water, and sighed as he took the mug.

“You know,” Ryo began, “it was never quiet at home.”

Kuroiwa froze. Ryo never talked about his life before Crimson Sky Records, the life with his family that he once had.

“I would spend every night practising the bass, and Hajime would always hum a tune as he studied. The walls were so thin that I could hear him clearly right through them.” Ryo stared down into his mug as if contemplating the water in it. “Sometimes, when we knew we were both listening to each other through the walls, he’d sing along to something I was playing.”

“Ryo-san…” Kuroiwa began, but wasn’t sure what else to say. Tentatively, he put his hand on Ryo’s shoulder to provide some sort of comfort and Ryo leaned into his touch easily.

The silence between them was so delicate and fragile that Kuroiwa almost didn’t dare to breathe lest he shatter it. A long moment passed, tense and motionless.

“Too goddamn quiet in here,” Ryo said at last, and took a long gulp from the mug, downing its contents in one go. 

* * *

“Hajime, is that really enough?”

Nitta Makoto’s eyebrows were knitted together as he eyed Hajime’s tray of food. They were at their usual curry rice place after band practice and Hajime hadn’t ordered his usual for once, instead opting for a plain bowl of white rice.

Hajime brushed off Nitta’s concern. “I just don’t feel that hungry today.”

Nitta’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, before he shrugged and went back to his food. Nara was rambling about something that had happened at his part-time job at a bookstore. Apparently, his boss had told him to help to sort out some books, but then this really cute girl came in, and so he approached her to ask if she needed any help, and she asked him to find a particular book, so he went to help the customer with finding it because that is what a good employee does, but someone had (unhelpfully) left the book at some random corner instead of where it was supposed to be, so he couldn’t find the book for a while, then his boss came out and asked him why he wasn’t sorting out the books or something, blah, blah, blah–

A leg kicked him in the shin under the table. Nitta yelped and glared at Nara as he rubbed the sore spot on his leg. “What was that for?”

“You’re not even listening!”

“Of course I’m listening. Short version: You got fired from your part-time job, _again_.”

“That wasn’t the point! The point was, the boss of that store was an unreasonable bastard and I’m glad that I’m not working there anymore.”

Nitta rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving away Nara's excuses, “but you do need to get another part-time job so that we can–”

“–pay for the next live venue,” the other three DYDARABOTCH members finished in unison.

“We heard you the first hundred times,” Nara grumbled.

“Like I said,” Nitta said, “it’s important that we continue with the good momentum that the band has now so that our popularity can continue to grow.”

Nara pouted. “I just got fired, can’t you all show a little sympathy?”

“But Nara-kun,” Inui interjected, “it _was_ your fault for getting distracted, wasn’t it?”

“Inui, not you too,” Nara groaned. “Besides, can’t we just do what we did before and share a venue with DiC?”

Hajime perked up. “Now that was pretty awesome. A thousand people capacity venue– and a full house on top of that! I could get used to _that_.”

“We can’t freeload off DiC forever,” Nitta responded, “that might give people the impression that we are only popular because we are riding off their popularity. We need to show those record labels that we are good enough to stand on our own two feet. Only then will any of them take us seriously.”

Hajime deflated. “Nitta-kun, you’re such a spoilsport,” he pouted.

(When Hajime pouted, he was so cute that Nitta had to resist the urge to reach over and kiss it off his face.)

He settled for reaching over and ruffling Hajime’s hair. “Well, we do have a good momentum going now. We just need to ride this wave and see where it takes us.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll be riding,” Nara said, waggling his eyebrows at Nitta.

Inui promptly started choking on his rice.

Nitta kneed Nara in the shin so hard that Nara keeled over, holding his leg. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hajime lunged over and swiped a piece of Nara's chicken katsu right off his plate.

In a half-choked yell, Nara protested, “Hey– that’s mine, Hajime-chan–!”

“Too bad,” Hajime said in between bites as the katsu vanished into his mouth. He reached over to steal another piece but Nara shoved his arm away.

“Oi, don’t just take my food–”

“Try and stop me then.”

Hajime’s bold dare, of course, sparked an intense chopstick war across the table, with the two boys bickering and laughing and shoving each other, attracting the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. Inui made a cross sign. Nitta sighed and looked up to the heavens too, questioning why he had decided to stay in this band for the millionth time.

* * *

There was something up with Ryo today, Ousaka Shouhei, better known as SHO to his fans, decided.

The usually composed President of Crimson Sky Records looked… off for some reason. It was nothing obvious: He turned up for the meeting with his band on time, dressed immaculately in his pristine suit and perfectly shined shoes as usual. The meeting had gone well, with the DIE is Cast presenting their new song to him and Ryo giving comments on how they could continue to improve on their sound. KAZUYA had made a snide remark. ARASHI had shot him a deadly glare. Ryo had told both of them off, after which both of them relented. All in all, there wasn’t anything that was really out of place. Everything had gone on as per normal.

But still. There was definitely something different.

SHO was still having trouble putting his finger to it while his band was packing up for the day. KO-TA was in the middle of suggesting a place for dinner when there was a hesitant, polite knock on the studio door.

“Come in,” Ryo called.

Kuroiwa stepped in, took one glance at Ryo, and then immediately dropped his eyes to the tablet he was holding, adjusting his glasses nervously.

Okay, _that_ was definitely weird.

Ryo straightened up. “Kuroiwa?” He sounded confused.

Kuroiwa strode forward. “This, uh—” He cleared his throat. “This is the report you asked for yesterday, President,” he said, handing the tablet to Ryo.

“Oh.” Holding the tablet in one hand, Ryo skimmed over the report. His fingers made a tapping sound on the underside of the tablet as he fiddled with it. He seemed strangely nervous for some unfathomable reason.

Kuroiwa was fidgeting subtly, still refusing to look Ryo in the eyes.

Hold on.

Was Kuroiwa blushing—?

The entirety of DiC looked from Ryo to Kuroiwa, then back at Ryo.

Suddenly, SHO didn’t want to know.

“We’ll be taking our leave now, Ryo-san,” he announced loudly, herding his band out of the door.

KAZUYA was sniggering the whole way out. As soon as the door closed, he burst out into a fit of giggles. “I can’t believe those two finally—” He turned to peek into the room through the glass panel in the door.

“Shut up,” SHO hissed.

“But don’t you want to know—”

“That’s none of our business.”

“Oh, come on, SHO—”

“Nope,” he said, dragging KAZUYA from the door by the collar, leaving the two in the studio together. 

* * *

Ryo couldn’t concentrate.

He was staring at the screen but none of the words were making sense in his brain. He was far too distracted by the thick tension between him and his secretary to keep his mind focussed on the report.

After a rather lengthy silence, the awkwardness became too much bear. Looking up from the report, Ryo cleared his throat. “Kuroiwa,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level, “Did, uh– did something happen last night?”

Kuroiwa’s face seemed to flush even more as he fidgeted with his spectacles. Panic uncoiled at the pit of Ryo’s stomach. He didn’t– did he?

Ryo couldn’t remember anything that had happened the night before. When he had woken up on his couch, he had been so disoriented that it had taken him a while to get his bearings. It was only a few minutes later that he realised that a blanket had been draped over him while he had been asleep. He didn’t have a pounding headache like he expected, which was weird, and there was an unexplained half-finished jug of water and a glass left on the coffee table. At first, he thought that perhaps he had been sober enough to get water for himself after all, and had thanked his drunk self for being that sensible at least, until he had checked his phone on his way to work and noticed the outgoing calls at 1 o’clock in the morning.

To Kuroiwa.

...who had been acting really weird this entire day.

Ryo had two rules in his life, and these two rules had made him who he was today, the successful President of a recording company, at the mere age of twenty-seven. Number one: Don’t lose control; Number two: Keep private and professional life separate.

And he had broken both of these in the past twenty-four hours.

Truthfully though, it had been difficult trying to keep these rules for the past few months, with everything that had happened since his younger brother had re-entered his life.

Whenever Hajime entered the picture, Ryo seemed to be incapable of keeping his emotions at bay. The mere sight of his brother would stir up feelings that had long been buried six feet under. He remembered how that first glimpse of him in the darkness of the live venue, way back when DiC was still known as Heaven’s Door, had cracked open a valve that had previously been sealed shut, a valve that could no longer be shut off, a valve that had become an open hole out of which everything that he had kept bottled up all these years now flowed freely: all of his pain and grief, his nostalgia for simpler times, and that tiny unsquashable spark of longing. These things which he had previously only managed to manifest in the form of music had become easier to express. Once or twice he had even caught himself laughing at something that Kuroiwa had said.

How strange. It was as if he had been holding his breath, but only now had realised it, and now that he had let it out, everything– _everything_ changed.

Everything including this, apparently.

Kuroiwa shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You don’t remember?”

“I didn’t– do anything– to you?” Ryo managed to say.

Kuroiwa shook his head frantically. “Oh, no, no, no, not at all, President. You just, er, called me, so I, um– came over and made sure you were doing okay, then I left once you had fallen asleep.”

_Oh, thank heavens._

“I’m… sorry,” Ryo said.

Kuroiwa’s head snapped up, eyes widening.

“For troubling you, that is,” Ryo continued hurriedly. “It must have been quite late when you got home.”

Kuroiwa shook his head again, this time slower. “No, it’s fine. But President, are you feeling all right today?”

Ryo nodded. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He took a breath. “And just… thank you, Kuroiwa. For everything.”

Kuroiwa seemed to search his eyes for the meaning of his words. A small smile slowly made its way across his lips. “You’re welcome, President.”

Relieved that the tension had dissipated, Ryo finally turned his attention back to the report.

Yeah. He was _never_ drinking ever again. 

* * *

“Hey guys, have you noticed something strange about Hajime lately?”

The owner of Southpaw, Masa, looked up from arranging the guitars in his shop. “Hajime?”

The boy in question had just left the shop, having completed his shift for the day, claiming he was going to go home to rest. The other three members of DYDARABOTCH had stayed on, lounging around the sofas and chairs of Southpaw in various states of casualness: Nara lying on the sofa with his feet propped up on the table, Nitta fiddling with his bass guitar as he leaned against one of the tables, and Inui huddled on a chair near a wall, reading a secondhand book.

Masa wasn’t sure how Southpaw had become a sort of home base for DYDARABOTCH, but had a sneaking suspicion that it had been building since he had given Hajime a part-time job in this shop. When Hajime had wandered into the quiet shop a few years ago, fascinated by one of the guitars that had been hanging on the walls, and had explained to Masa his rather hopeless situation, he had looked so small and so lost and _so damn young_ that Masa had offered him a job on the spot to try to help him out. At that time, he had assumed that taking care of him would have been a temporary arrangement. He hadn’t expected to get so attached to the boy, who seemed to make life more vibrant and the shop more lively just by being there, nor did he expect to later adopt each of the DYDARABOTCH members, who had, one by one, wormed their way into his heart. It had happened so spontaneously and naturally that before he knew it, Masa had somehow adopted these kids into his life and he couldn’t imagine it being any different.

So, upon hearing something was up with Hajime, Masa could feel a spool of worry begin to unravel. HIs eyebrows knitted together. “What’s wrong with him?”

Nara, who had asked the question, took his feet off the table. “I don’t know,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “don’t you think he’s been acting a little weird lately? Like he doesn’t hang out here as often anymore, or go out with us as frequently as before?”

Masa frowned. It was true that Hajime didn’t stick around as he usually did after his shifts.

Nitta stopped fiddling with his bass and pursed his lips. “He did miss some of those notes that he would have usually been able to hit during practice today. It was like his mind wasn’t really on the music.”

Inui set his book on the table. “I thought that he was just tired. I mean, the weather now makes me really sleepy too.”

“Well, maybe,” Nara said, clearly unconvinced. “But that doesn’t explain why he mysteriously doesn’t want to go out with us anymore.”

That was true too: Hajime loved hanging out with his friends, so why did he always seem to be avoiding them after practice now?

Masa folded his arms. “What if he’s sick?”

That got the attention of the three boys, who all turned to him at once. The air in the room seemed to thicken.

“Wouldn’t he have told us if he was sick?” Nitta said, lines of concern creasing between his eyebrows.

A shred of panic found its way into Nara's voice. “But he has been looking a little pale lately. What if,” Nara began, his voice gradually rising with every word, “what if he contracted some kind of serious illness, but then didn’t want to worry us, so he decided not to tell us, but then it’s been getting worse, so it’s harder to hide it now, and then– and then–”

Nitta cut him off. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. There has to be some kind of reasonable explanation for it. Maybe he really is just kind of tired lately, so he just wants to go home and rest.”

“Still, I’m worried about Hajime-kun,” Inui admitted.

The glum silence that followed was too tense and too sad for Masa’s liking. He turned to face the three boys. “Then, why don’t you guys find out?”

Nara looked up. “By ‘find out’, you mean…”

“The next time Hajime suddenly has to leave, you guys could follow him to see if he’s really just going home to rest– or find out whatever that guy’s up to.”

Inui fidgeted in his seat. “Is that really the right thing to do though?”

“We’re doing it to make sure he’s okay, so that totally makes it okay,” Nara justified.

“I guess,” Inui conceded.

Nitta was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, “All right then. Let’s do it.”

Masa looked around the room, at the fiercely protective expressions of Nitta, Nara and even Inui, and was glad that even after all the terrible things that had happened to him over the past few years, Hajime had managed to surround himself with friends that were good and true.

* * *

The last time DYDARABOTCH had tailed someone, it had been to find out about the mysterious woman who he had been exchanging letters with. It had broken his heart to find out the truth, and that she hadn’t been interested in him the same way he had been genuinely interested in her.

This time Inui Shingo found himself on the other side of the tailing as the three members of DYDARABOTCH followed their vocalist, watching his movements from afar.

When Hajime had turned down a _nomikai_ after band practice yet again, even Inui found it odd. He had claimed that he was going back home, but there had been something strange about Hajime’s smile. It was the same smile that Hajime had given them the first time him and his older brother had seen each other in that live venue. Perhaps Inui didn’t know Hajime as well as Nara did, but Inui knew that a forced smile when he saw one. The worried expressions on Nara and Nitta’s faces told him that they were also thinking the same thing.

Inui had been the last of the DYDARABOTCH members to join the band. He wasn’t an exceptional instrumentalist like Nitta was, nor was he childhood friends with Hajime like Nara, but Hajime had never treated Inui like he was less important to the band – or to him –  than either of them. Hajime had gone out of his way to make sure that Inui’s feelings weren’t being cheated, and had helped him feel better when the truth came out. It was time for Inui to return the favour and make sure Hajime was okay.

Or at least, that’s what Inui told himself when he began following Hajime with his two bandmates. Now, standing a block away from Hajime’s retreating back, he had started to question his choices.

“Guys, should we really be doing this?” he asked nervously, tugging on Nara's sleeve.

Nara brushed off his concern easily. “We’re doing this for his own good,” he whispered to Inui, still following Hajime from a distance.

Inui wondered if they had said the same thing when they had tailed Kana to find out whether or not she was scamming him. He turned to Nitta for support, but Nitta was also clearly too focussed on figuring out where on earth Hajime was heading to.

“That direction– that’s opposite of where his apartment is,” Nitta pointed out.

Okay, that was definitely suspicious. “So if he isn’t going home, where is he going?” Inui mumbled.

Nara gestured for them to keep up as the three continued to tail Hajime down the street. At last he turned into a small alleyway (they had to dash over to keep him in their sights) and disappeared behind a rather dingy looking backdoor.

“What, uh, what do we do now?” Inui asked, frantically looking between Nara and Nitta.

There was a long pause as Nara looked at Nitta and the two seemed to come to a silent agreement. The two of them surged forward and burst through the door. Inui’s plea of “Hey, wait!” came a little too late, and he (half-reluctantly) followed them through the door.

“Hajime, what…” Nara muttered. They found themselves standing in the middle of a restaurant kitchen.

“Yuusuke, Nitta-kun, even Inui! what on earth–?” Hajime stood frozen near a sink, baffled at the sudden appearance of his friends.

The three of them looked at ill-fitting cap that had been carelessly thrown on Hajime’s head and then back at the dish that Hajime was still holding in his hand.

The tension was broken by someone who had been standing at the kitchen door with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold in front of him. “Hajime,” he addressed, making all four of them jump, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I suggest you take ten minutes and sort out whatever problem you have with these guys out back before the supper rush starts.”

Regaining his senses, Hajime bowed and muttered a thank you to him, before ushering his bandmates out of the back door.

As soon as he had closed the back door, Hajime rounded on them. “What the hell are you guys doing here? Did you guys _follow_ me? Seriously–”

Nara clenched his jaw and folded his arms. “You got a night job?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Aren’t you already working at Masa-san’s cafe _and_ the part-time gigs that Chada-san got you?”

Hajime shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, I wanted a little extra cash.”

“Couldn’t you have asked Masa-san to increase your pay then?”

“It’s not like Southpaw is doing that amazing. Masa-san’s already paying me as much as he can without Southpaw closing down. It’s really not a big deal, guys.”

“B-but that means that– you’re working, what, three, four jobs _and_ band practice?” Inui stammered. “Isn’t that– well, a little–”

“It’s not a big deal,” Hajime repeated, “I can handle it.”

Nitta, who had been silent up till now, asked slowly, “It’s your rent, isn’t it?”

Hajime tensed, and that was enough of an answer for everyone. He had complained about his shitty landlord enough that the other band members knew something like this would happen.

Nitta sighed, “Hajime, why didn’t you just tell us?”

Hajime met his eyes almost reluctantly. “Because I didn’t want you guys to worry.”

A silence fell among them.

One of the things that Inui had come to realise about Katayama Hajime in the past few months was this: For all the smiles and the laughter that Hajime always brought, he used that brightness to cover up a sensitive side that he didn’t like letting others know about. Hajime could be starving but he wouldn’t want to impose that on anyone.

Inui wanted to say _you can trust us, you know, you can tell us these things._ But the words got tangled in his throat when he saw Hajime fidget uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. Hajime was so easy to read most of the time but so difficult when it really mattered.

The voice of Hajime’s new boss calling for him shattered the atmosphere that had fallen between them. “I’ll be right there!” Hajime shouted back, before turning to them. “Look, guys, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Without giving them time to protest, he turned and jogged back to the kitchen. The three left standing in the back alley exchanged glances with one another.

“What do we do?” Inui whispered.

 

* * *

 The answer to that question, much to Hajime’s relief, was nothing.

His band members were keeping an annoyingly close eye on him. Yuusuke was fussing over him more than ever, Nitta kept asking him if he was all right to continue during band practice, and Inui kept offering him his food. Even Masa-san was urging him to take as much rest as he could, though there were only so many excuses that he could give to keep paying Hajime when he took days off. Hajime was grateful for it, of course, but he did not need the babying from his band, really. He could take care of himself. He had been doing just that for the past six years of his life, after all.

The weather was getting colder. Hajime tugged at the edge of his old, frayed jacket and wondered if he had saved enough money to cover both his rent and get a new jacket... Yeah, probably not.

Band practice had run late that day, and it was already dark outside. They were just packing up their instruments when Yuusuke asked, “Hajime, coming for dinner? Well, by now it’s more like supper, but–”

Checking his watch, Hajime shook his head. “My other job’s starting in five minutes,” he said, already halfway out of the door.

Nitta’s brow furrowed and he straightened up. “But Hajime, it’s–”

“See you guys tomorrow!” he said cheerfully as he closed the door behind him, effectively cutting Nitta off.

Hajime wrapped the jacket around himself tighter and headed out into the street. The wet pavement glowed amber under the street lamps and the hastily swept aside snow crunched under his shoes. It was not often that it snowed in Tokyo, and while some looked forward to the handful of days that it snowed properly, Hajime had always hated the snow. The cold dampness seemed to seep through everything, even through walls, and when it melted, it was really just icy water that just made everything feel dirty.

Just then, a car came racing down the road. Hajime yelped and jumped back as the car got too close for comfort, grazing the pavement before speeding off. But not before it rolled over a puddle of said just melted icy water, splashing Hajime with it.

“Seriously?” Hajime yelled aloud. After trying to shake off as much water as he could like a wet dog, he gave up and just took off his jacket – a wet jacket was colder than wearing none at all – and continued down the street, muttering angry curse words at the driver. At least there would be a clean and dry uniform he could change to at the restaurant. There was nothing to do about his poor, soaked through shoes though – it was his only pair. He sighed, his breath turning into mist in the cold air, as he trudged up to the backdoor of the restaurant.

“You’re late,” his boss intoned as he walked in.

“Sorry! I–”

“I don’t need to hear it. Just put this on quickly, we’re expecting a crowd today.”

Hajime caught the uniform and apron that was flung at him easily, but tilted his head in confusion. “Why today?”

His boss gave a look like it was obvious. “Because it’s Christmas Eve, kid. Now hurry up and get to work.”

Christmas Eve.

It was Christmas Eve already?

Hajime blinked down at his uniform. Something like Christmas hadn’t even crossed his mind lately. What was it that people did on Christmas anyway? Eat fried chicken, drink wine, meet up with family–? Well, sure, he had DYDARABOTCH and Masa-san, but...

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts before he think too much. It wouldn’t do any good to get stuck on moot points. Better get to work.

His boss was right. The twenty-four hour restaurant was soon filled with diners, and Hajime was running around the place. Some of the kitchen staff had apparently taken time off, so he was stuck with double duty, both serving patrons and washing the dishes. There was no time to even stop to take a breath.

“Hajime, we need your help in the kitchen!”

“Hajime, I need you out front with the menus!”

“Hajime, the dishes?”

“Coming!” he called back, rushing back into the kitchen and putting on the dishwashing gloves. He began scrubbing at the dirty dishes.

He looked up at the clock on the wall and checked the time. How was it only midnight _now?_ It felt like he had been here for ages, and he still had so many hours of his shift left. God, he was so exhausted, and there were just so many dishes to go through. His head hurt. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes to try to relive the pain, but the pain persisted. He looked up at the clock again. That’s weird, why was the clock moving from side to side?

He stopped his scrubbing and realised that he had been swaying like a leaf in the wind. Except there was no wind. There was just him standing in the middle of the kitchen, and– Huh. The air felt strangely suffocating. The cold seemed to close up around him like an iron fist.

He gripped the edge of the sink, only faintly aware of the plate slipping out of his hand. Was he sick? That wasn’t good, he wouldn’t be able to sing at practice tomorrow if he was sick. He wondered if he should call the band and ask to cancel. He reached for his phone in his apron pocket. The floor spun. Before he knew what was happening, the world turned on its axis and he felt the strength leave his legs.

The ground came up to meet him. 

* * *

“Cheers!”

It had been advice (nagging) that both his secretary and his brother had given him, but Ryo was actually kind of glad that he had decided to go out for drinks with his band – even if he didn’t actually drink the sake. Of course, Ryo stayed far away from the actual alcohol, but the bubbliness of the young band was a refreshing change from the dull silence of his empty apartment. This was way better than what he usually did on Christmas Eve (which was to sit and mope at home). He sipped from his cup of soda, content to silently listen to the band members’ chatting about how cool their latest performance was. They were still on a post-performance high after a little Christmas special performance, which the fans lapped up greedily.

“Ryo-san, what do you think of our performance?” SHO asked, and the whole band turned to him expectantly.

Ryo looked at the shining eyes of the band members and marvelled at how much they had grown since the time he had taken them under his wing. But god forbid he say that out loud, so he just folded his arms and said, “You guys did a good job.”

They let out a collective cheer at that, and even Ryo found himself smiling at their excited energy.

The DIE is CAST was riding the wave of popularity that their major debut had swept them on, and Ryo couldn’t be more proud of them. They would achieve what Ryo’s own band could not. Ryo’s expression softened, remembering making that faraway promise to his mother over the counter of her bar. Perhaps performing with his brother on that stage might be a dream that no longer existed, but it didn’t change the fact that the Budokan still held a special meaning to him as his once lifelong goal. Who knew, one day, this band might even stand on that stage — fulfilling that promise, if in a more indirect way than he had once believed.

Yes, this was a good way to end the year.

Sitting beside him, Kuroiwa smiled knowingly at him, and his lingering gaze made the back of Ryo’s neck tingle. Looking directly back at him, Ryo asked, “What?”

Kuroiwa shook his head, turning away. “Nothing at all, President.” But the smile remained.

Ryo almost rolled his eyes. No matter how closed off he was to the rest of the world, to his secretary, he had always been an open book.

(He was kind of grateful, actually. There were things that were just too difficult for him to say.)

As the band continued to celebrate the year’s successes, Ryo’s phone rang. Excusing himself from the table, he fished his phone out of his pocket. It was an unknown number. Huh, he wasn’t expecting any official business calls today. Most people didn’t work this late, especially during the Christmas holiday.

“Hello?” He answered the phone in the best business tone he could muster.

“Is this Katayama Ryo?”

“Yes, Katayama Ryo speaking. Who is this?”

“I’m calling from Juntendo Hospital. You were listed as the emergency contact for a, uh, Katayama Hajime? He was just admitted to the ER—”

Time stopped.

The phone slid out of his shaking hands and clattered onto the floor.

* * *

“You!”

Nara Yuusuke stormed up to the person in question and grabbed him by the collar. “You’re the reason Hajime’s like this right now.”

“I’m–”

“You seriously have a lot nerve showing up here now after everything that you did,” Yuusuke spat. “Do you have any idea–”

“Nara! Let him go!” Nitta intervened, wrenching Yuusuke off the stunned man.

The president of Crimson Sky Records, and possibly the man who could end their music careers if he wanted to, blinked at them as he smoothened down his wrinkled shirt, like he had only just noticed them there. “Why are you guys here?”

“Because we actually care about your brother, unlike you!” Spite laced Yuusuke’s voice. His blood boiled at the sight of his best friend’s older brother, who continued to look clueless to how he had contributed to Hajime’s current predicament.

When Yuusuke had first met Hajime in middle school, the boy had been hot-headed, impulsive, but full of bubbly excitement and light. Hajime might have had a tough life even then, living with a single mother and his older brother, but he never let any of his bullies knock him down. He always got back up. But when he met him again after high school, Hajime had gained a heavy weight on his shoulders that he was never quite able to cover up despite his best efforts. He was so much more guarded in his smiles and his laughter that Yuusuke yearned to bring back the light Hajime once had.

Yuusuke had wanted to know what had caused the light in Hajime to dim, but the topic had always been too sensitive to broach, and Hajime had been frustratingly successful in changing the topic every time he probed, so he stopped asking. He didn’t want to hurt Hajime more. The first time he had an inkling of what might have happened to him was when Ryo had walked into the live venue to find DiC confronting DYDARABOTCH. Hajime’s aggressive come-at-me attitude had evaporated as soon as he laid his eyes on his older brother.

Yuusuke might not know _exactly_ what had transpired between the brothers, or what feelings still remained between the two of them, but he knew this: Katayama Ryo was to blame.

Ryo was the reason Hajime always refused help in fear of being a burden to them. The reason that Hajime wouldn’t tell them the depths of his pain. The reason that Hajime was in that very pain.

And Yuusuke hated Ryo for it.

Now, standing in front of ICU where Hajime lay, Yuusuke couldn’t help it. All the anger that he had bottled up exploded like a grenade which he lay at Ryo’s feet.

“I…” Ryo stood frozen at Yuusuke’s anger, uncertain of how to respond to this accusation.

“You let him carry that grief and guilt by himself for six years, do you understand that? While you were busying yourself with your music career, Hajime-chan was suffering _alone_!”

Ryo reeled back like he had been physically struck. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…”

“You weren’t thinking of him. But he _ran_ all the way to Buzz Rock Future even after he’d been injured because he didn’t want _your goddamn precious reputation_ to be ruined,” Yuusuke growled. “He didn’t want to ask for help from you even though he needed it because he didn’t want to trouble you. Do you get it now? All Hajime-chan thought about was you, and now he’s in the ICU because of it.”

Nitta put his hand on Yuusuke’s shoulder. “Nara, that’s enough.” He turned to Ryo with a sigh. “It’s family members only,” he said, nodding towards the door.

Ryo hesitated. Then he took a deep breath and opened the door. 

* * *

God, Ryo _really, really_ didn’t like the quiet.

In the stillness of the room, the soft, steady beeping of the heart monitor seemed to pound in his ears. Lying motionless in the hospital bed, Hajime reminded Ryo so much of their mother in her final moments that it ripped him apart. He had never seen Hajime like this: pallid and cold and unmoving. Hajime shouldn’t be like this. Hajime was always filled with fiery passion. Nothing had ever changed that. Except…

_This is your fault,_ Nara had yelled at him. As much as Ryo wanted to retort back, to defend himself – how was he supposed to know that Hajime would collapse from exhaustion, it wasn’t like he was his brother’s keeper – he knew, deep down, it was true. That was the thing, wasn’t it? He _should_ be his brother’s keeper. He _should_ have been there for him.

But he hadn’t been, even though Hajime had always been there for him. No matter how far away Ryo pushed him away, it had been Hajime who had taken the stage at Buzz Rock Future in spite of his injuries, it had been Hajime who had run to stop Ryo from reviving THE CROW and making a decision he knew he’d regret. Hajime had always looked out for his older brother, even when Ryo wanted nothing to do with him, even when Ryo had sworn to destroy Hajime’s dream.

And what had he done?

Ryo looked down at the pale form of his brother unconscious on the hospital bed as his mother had years ago, and he knew that he had failed his responsibility as a son to his mother and now, he was failing in his responsibility as an older brother to Hajime. He had been so consumed by regret and grief for not being there for his mother as her health waned that he had turned around and done the exact same thing to Hajime. Sickness might have taken their beloved mother away from Hajime, but it was Ryo himself who stole Hajime’s older brother away from him that day too.

Hajime began to stir. Relief jolted in Ryo and he leaned forward. About a million things that he wanted to say to his little brother ran through his mind, all of them flying past his mind so quickly it was like trying to catch arrows out of the air. Instead, what tumbled out of his mouth clumsily when Hajime’s eyes opened was: “You didn’t change your emergency contact number.” 

Hajime blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. Pushing off the heated blankets that he had been buried under, he turned towards the sound of his voice. He paused for a second, rubbing his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Big brother?”

Stepping closer, Ryo gently pushed Hajime back down onto the bed and tucked him under the heavy sheets. “You’re still weak, you shouldn’t try to get up yet. And stay under the sheets.”

Hajime relented quietly, too tired to protest. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“You collapsed,” Ryo said quietly, still fussing over Hajime’s pillow and blankets, “from exhaustion and mild hypothermia. The doctor says you’ll be fine, you just need to rest up, okay?”

Hajime made a non-committal sound that was in between a grunt and a groan. Ryo took that as a yes. His voice almost a whisper, he asked, “The hospital called you?”

Ryo nodded.

Hajime seemed to shrink back under the covers again. “Sorry for bothering you. You must have been busy. You didn’t have to come.”

Ryo’s heart wrenched. Nara was right. Hajime had become so afraid to be a burden on anyone else. He had come to expect that people would kick him out, leave him, abandon him, just like Ryo had. He put himself last because he thought everyone else did, and was blind to the fact that there were people who cared about him above everything else. Like DYDARABOTCH did.

Ryo was silently grateful that even after losing everything, Hajime had managed to find people who treated him as important as family. Hell, now he was even kind of relieved when Nitta had turned down his offer to join The DIE is CAST that time. Staying with Hajime and fulfilling the dream that Hajime had set out for them had been more important to Nitta Makoto than his own personal success and wishes, and Ryo was glad that Hajime had formed such a band around him to help him when his older brother refused to. But there was only so long that Ryo could ignore his responsibilities as his brother, and this incident had highlighted that.

“You aren’t bothering me,” he said, shaking his head. He wanted to reach out and take Hajime’s hand, but he felt like he hadn’t earned it. Instead, he poured Hajime a glass of warm water and offered it to him carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Drinking from the glass slowly, Hajime hummed. “Tired.”

Ryo sighed. “What were you thinking anyway, working until you collapsed?”

Blearily, Hajime answered, his words slurring, “Had to.”

Ryo’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?” Had something happened to DYDARABOTCH that he hadn’t known about?

“Needed the money.” Hajime handed the glass back to his brother. “Ah… When can I be discharged? I need to clock in a few more hours during the holidays to get the bonus–”

Ryo set the glass back down on the table. “You’re not going anywhere until you’re fully healed. What do you need the money for anyway?”

Hajime wasn’t looking at him. In fact, he seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid Ryo’s firm gaze. “The rent took a sharp hike this month. And between the band expenses and food and everything else… There was only so much Masa-san could pay me, so…”

Even though Hajime was the one with the hypothermia, Ryo felt a chill pierce through him. There he had been lounging in the empty, dusty penthouse that was far too big for him when his younger brother had very nearly ended up on the streets, or worse off. After becoming the President of a recording label, Ryo had left his past of living in cramped apartments with landlords that smoked too much behind, but his brother was still counting coins to see if he could buy bread the next day and struggling to find enough work as a freeter to pay the rent.

Ryo swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d spent so much time working on making his way up the social ladder (selfish, selfish, _selfish_ ) that he had almost forgotten what it was like to live paycheck to paycheck like he once had. Winter, he remembered, was always the worst. The heating in those tiny budget apartments…

It was a wonder that Hajime had survived this long, really.

Ryo looked down at his hands. He remembered how he used to feel when he got calls from his mother saying that Hajime had gotten in a fight again, that Hajime needed his help, and how Ryo used to drop everything, take time off from his job immediately, not caring about how many more hours he’d have to clock the next day to meet the quota, to go and meet up with Hajime. It had been the same feeling that he had gotten when the hospital called him, it had been the same feeling that he had gotten when he had found his mother–

That feeling welled up in his chest, a feeling that had been building ever since he got that phone call, a feeling that burst like a water balloon and pour out everything that he had been holding back all these years.

Having made a decision, he straightened up and fixed his eyes on Hajime. “So, it’s the rent, is it?”

Hajime nodded. “I’ll get evicted by the end of the month if I don’t have enough money…” He trailed off, his hands clenching in the bedsheets.

“Then,” Ryo said, “why don’t you move in with me?”

* * *

Silence.

Hajime stared at Ryo for a long moment, dumbfounded.

Then he turned to his side and began fumbling for the call button.

“What are you doing?” the man standing by his bed asked.

“I’m calling for someone, because who are you and what have you done with my brother,” Hajime replied, still groping for the button.

“Hajime, I’m serious,” Ryo said, exasperated.

Hajime stopped his fiddling and stared at his brother wide-eyed in shock. Was his brother _really_ suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? For Hajime to move in with him, to live together like a family? It seemed like such a faraway dream, an untouchable idea that Hajime had never let himself consider it before. Briefly, the image of him and his brother in the same household listening to each other try out songs on the guitar through the walls lingered in his mind. Was it really possible to return to those long lost days?

He wanted to say yes. For so long he yearned for this: the chance to be a real family with his brother again. What had seemed impossible a few months ago was finally in his grasp. More than anything, he wanted to say yes, but...

“I can’t impose on you like that,” Hajime said quietly, sinking back into the bed. He wanted the covers to swallow him up right now. “You have your own life, I can’t suddenly intrude on that just because I can’t provide for myself. It’s okay, I’ll figure it out myself.”

Ryo was studying him with a heavy gaze. After a moment, he sighed. “Hajime. The place where I live is big enough for the both of us. You need a place to stay, and I have plenty to go around. You’re more than welcome to stay with me.”

Hajime’s hands trembled. Could he really..? Was this even real? Hajime met Ryo’s eyes and realised with a start that Ryo was dead serious. DYDARABOTCH and Masa-san had been the only family he had for so long, and he was so, so thankful for them, but it wasn’t quite the same as being with his brother, the person he had grown up with, shared his dreams with, and looked up to.

But Ryo was looking at him with kind eyes that made Hajime bubble with warmth and hope and comfort. With eyes that reminded him of the older brother from all those years ago who his mother had once said was _too_ kind.

“You… really mean it…” Hajime repeated, breathless at the prospect.

Ryo’s lips tugged into a hesitant, fragile smile. “If you don’t mind moving in with me, of course.”

_Fuck it_ , Hajime thought. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist, hugging him best he could in the awkward position he was in.

“Thank you,” he babbled, “thank you, thank you, thank you, big brother, thank you!”

Ryo stiffened. For a second, Hajime felt his heart sink. Did he read his brother wrong? Had he gone too far?

But Ryo let out a silent chuckle and rested his hand on Hajime’s head.

And it was as if he was seven again, and they were sitting in his mother’s bar, dreaming about their future together. 

* * *

Nitta sat waiting outside the hospital room where Hajime lay, his hands over his eyes as he struggled to stay awake. It felt like it had been forever since Hajime’s brother had gone inside the room to see how he was doing. As much as he hated the fact that only family members were allowed (They were Hajime’s family too!), he knew to give the two brothers some space.

Sibling relationships are almost always complicated. There is something special about having someone grow up with you, know you inside out, leaving their imprint on your life forever. But the Katayama brothers were a particularly vexing pair, with fates that had been tangled with each other so tightly that they never truly were able to push the other away.

Nitta knew this, because he had lived it too. As an older brother himself, he recognised Ryo’s feelings better than most of the others. Being the older one meant that growing up, he had to look out for his younger sibling, protect them, and teach them. Nitta himself had taught Reina how to play the bass, and though she didn’t have the natural knack for it that he did, she used to sit and watch him play, staring at his fast moving fingers with eyes of wonder. Though he had been estranged from his family ever since he left to pursue a professional music career instead of take up the family business, he never really lost contact with them because of Reina, who came by to see him once in a while. Nitta knew that no matter how far he wandered away from his family, he would always be tethered to his family by his connection to Reina.

And he knew that, deep down, Ryo had always understood this too, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. Ryo could try to hate his brother as much as he wanted to, but there was some part of him, however suppressed it was, that would always come running when Hajime was in trouble. Nitta had recognised this part of Ryo at Buzz Rock Future, when Nara had found out that Aramaki had hired people to attack Hajime and prevent him from making his appearance. Even as he outwardly plotted to bring about the death of Hajime’s dream, Ryo had quickly confronted Aramaki about hurting Hajime and requested his band to extend their performance long enough for Hajime to make it to the venue.

Yes, Nitta knew this. And yet, he still could not bring himself to truly forgive Ryo for all that he had done to Hajime.

Nitta knew that once Ryo came to his senses, Ryo would probably regret everything he had said and tear himself up in guilt. But that didn’t make everything that Hajime had to go through okay. Ryo had abandoned his younger brother when he had needed him most, left him high and dry with no family, no money, and no home to go back to. As if that wasn’t bad enough, when they had finally reunited again, he had made it worse by promising to destroy his little brother’s dreams. The thought of anyone, _anyone_ saying what Ryo had said to Hajime to his little sister made Nitta want to bite someone’s head off.

As an older brother, that was an unforgivable act.

He may not have exploded at Ryo openly as Nara had, but honestly, he was just as angry.

_You know, maybe I should have just let Nara punch him_.

The thought snuck into his mind without really meaning to, and he snorted at himself.

Before he could really put that much thought into whether or not Katayama Ryo deserved a punch in the face, Nitta heard a click and he whipped his head back up. Ryo stepped outside of the room and carefully shut the door behind him.

“He’s sleeping now,” Ryo explained. “He’s going to be fine. With any luck, he’ll be discharged within two days.”

The tension in Nitta’s shoulders evaporated. He felt like he could finally breathe properly again. Standing up, he responded, “That’s good to hear.”

Nara had left briefly to get some drinks from the vending machine, so it was just the two of them outside of Hajime’s room at this ungodly hour of the night. Ryo put his hands in his pockets. He hesitated, as if unsure of himself, then said to Nitta, “You should go back home, get some rest. I’ll come by in the morning tomorrow and pay the hospital bill for him.”

Anger spiked in Nitta, and he straightened up stiffly. “Look, you don’t get to just show up and decide that you want to be a good brother all of a sudden. _I’m_ paying for Hajime’s hospital bills. You’ve already done enough to Hajime, just leave him alone. That shouldn’t be too hard for you, since that’s all you’ve been doing.”

Ryo seemed taken aback by the challenging stance that Nitta had taken all of a sudden. Nitta wasn’t usually this forward – even when turning down his offer to DiC, Nitta had been more calculating with his response. Nitta was usually careful of jeopardising potential future career opportunities, but when it came to Hajime, Nitta could never think straight.

But Ryo set his jaw. Something in his eyes shifted. “I am his older brother,” Ryo stated firmly. “I’ll take care of his medical fees.”

_Oh, yeah, pulling the sibling card? Two can play that game,_ Nitta thought. Unimpressed, he replied, “Well, I’m his _boyfriend_ , so _I’m_ paying for it.”

Now that _definitely_ took Ryo off guard. Ryo took a step back, blinking rapidly at Nitta. Smugly, Nitta revelled at the shock in Ryo’s widening eyes. “Um,” Ryo said. Flustered, he kept his eyes on the wall as he stuttered, “Uh, so- um, uh, Hajime isn’t dating Nara?”

Nitta wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be offended that Ryo had connected Hajime to Nara instead of himself. He wondered if it had been because Ryo had accidentally walked in on the two of them getting touchy feely backstage (which happened more often than Nitta wanted to admit, those two were insatiable). Feeling vaguely slighted, he decided to put Ryo out of his confusion and said matter-of-factly, “Actually he’s dating both of us.”

Nitta didn’t think it was possible for Ryo’s eyes to get any bigger. But it did. Ryo coughed uncomfortably. He was certainly finding that hospital wall very fascinating. He rubbed the back of his neck and chewed on his lower lip, trying to figure out what to say next. Nitta might have laughed watching Ryo squirm at the revelation if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Nitta watched as Ryo dropped his gaze to his shoes, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was a fidgeting habit that Hajime also did when he was unsure about something, just as he wanted to say something.

Finally, after a long moment of hesitation, Ryo took a deep breath, cleared his throat and announced, “All right. But I’m still gonna foot the bill.”

Huh, he was half expecting Ryo to throw a tantrum about treating his brother right or something. Nitta searched Ryo’s eyes, and for the first time he realised that Ryo was different from the last time Nitta had seen him when he faced off Junya. He carried a darkness about him that was awfully familiar. It was the same kind of guilt and grief that Hajime lugged around with him all the time, and Ryo (at last) _understood_ that.

Hajime may still be holding the weight of the sky on his shoulders, but now he had someone to share this burden with.

Whatever had gone on between the brothers behind this door, he knew that Ryo was genuinely trying to be a good brother now, at least. He pursed his lips together, and after a sigh, conceded, “Fine.” It was probably better for the band’s funds in general, anyway. It wasn’t like any of them was made of money. Might as well let Hajime’s CEO brother help out if he was offering.

Ryo relaxed a little, relieved at the concession. He fidgeted nervously, looking more like Hajime than he had ever been to Nitta, and then said quietly, “Thank you.”

It was Nitta’s turn to be taken aback. “Uh-? What for?”

After a pregnant pause, he answered, “For everything.”

_For everything you’ve done for Hajime_ went unsaid.

Nitta’s expression softened.

Yeah. Maybe these two brothers were not as far away from their road of recovery as he had thought.

* * *

_CRASH_.

“Sorry!”

“Sorry isn’t going to fix this, Inui!”

“Nara, leave him alone, it’s just a mug.”

“Guys, shut up, my brother’s going to be back soon.”

Letting out a sigh, Ryo toed off his shoes and entered his penthouse apartment. When he had offered to let Hajime move in with him, he hadn’t realised that meant adopting literally the entire of DYDARABOTCH into his home.

Once he had been discharged by the hospital, Hajime had asked his band to help him with the move, which was fine by Ryo, but DYDARABOTCH had instantly decided that this place was the best place to hang out after band practice. They had fallen in love with ‘Hajime’s new digs’ immediately, if the wide eyes and _oohs_ and _aahs_ when they first stepped in was any indication. But that did not change Ryo’s conviction and surety that he wanted Hajime to live with him again.

Ryo had been shocked when he saw where Hajime had been holing up for the past few years too, but in the exact opposite sense. They had not exactly lived in luxury even when their mother was alive, but Hajime’s apartment was a tiny, cramped space that barely allowed for any walking space with a heater that only worked occasionally. The landlord was a douchebag who didn’t have a shred for sympathy for his tenants and had been raising the rent cost for extra cigarette money. It was really because Ryo had just got off work that day, so it was unintentional, but when Ryo had rolled up in his company car for Hajime to put his stuff in the backseat as he moved out, the landlord’s eyes had bulged. He had tried charging Hajime extra for cancelling on his rent lease early, but Kuroiwa walked up to him, smiled, and began grilling him a couple of legal issues that he was clearly in violation of, and the landlord had shut up quickly. Ryo was just glad to get Hajime out of there, though he now sorely wished he had done so earlier.

There was no trace of resentment in his younger brother for Ryo’s lateness though, and Hajime was all smiles as he dumped his stuff into the backseat. His band, however, didn’t share that same easy forgiveness that Hajime did, because Nara was still giving him the stink eye every time he walked past him. Actually, it was hard to look at Nara in the eye at all knowing that…

Well… Let’s just say that his apartment becoming DYDARABOTCH’s new favourite place had some previously unforeseen consequences. Like accidentally walking in on his baby brother with his boyfriends.

Um, getting used to them being around was a work in progress.

The only real blip in their moving in, though, happened when Hajime was exploring the place for the first time. He had emerged from one of the rooms with his cheeks tinted a curious pink, looking fidgety, and said, “You know, big brother, it’s really okay if it’s too much of a hassle for me to be around, I mean, like, well, this place, two people is all right but with three people–”

Confused, Ryo had interrupted, “Um, three? It’s just me and you though?”

Now bewildered, Hajime had replied, “What about Kuroiwa-san?”

Ryo had blinked at him. “Uh. Kuroiwa doesn’t live here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Hajime, I think I would know.”

“Because there’s an extra used toothbrush in your bathroom and also an actual set of _his_ work clothes sitting on your dresser.”

“He– well– he stays over sometimes when we need to work through the night,” Ryo said, exasperated.

“So, he doesn’t live here?”

"No, of course not, why would he?”

“I mean, aren’t you guys dating?”

Ryo had turned so red that even the tips of his ears were pink. “No! Where did you get that idea? No, god, no, we’re just colleagues, Hajime, I’m not– we could never–”

Hajime had looked at him for a moment, clearly not believing him. “Okay,” he said, “sure. Well, just let me know whenever you and your boyfriend need some space and I’ll make sure to get out of your hair.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Uh huh.”

“Hajime!”

“Whatever you say, big brother.”

Ryo had opted to never tell Kuroiwa about this incident. Just thinking about it made his cheeks flush again.

He shook his head, chasing away thoughts of it as he padded towards the kitchen, where the crash had come from. There he found DYDARABOTCH bickering as usual, but what was not usual was the sight of the members of the DIE is CAST also standing in the kitchen, with SHO and Hajime arguing over what appeared to be a cake mix. Someone had spilled flour all over the place, and the kitchen and everyone in it was speckled in white powder.

Just as he was about to ask what was happening, Kuroiwa (he was here too? Didn’t he take leave from work saying that he had some appointment?) strode up to him. “President, we weren’t expecting you back so early! I hope you don’t mind, it was your brother’s idea— it was just that you seemed so buried in your work, so we were going to throw you a surprise New Year’s party, but it’s kind of a mess,” he explained, sheepish.

Ryo’s lips quirked up, vaguely amused. His apartment would never be silent ever again with Hajime around, it seemed. Ryo found that he didn’t mind. “It’s quite all right. Thank you, Kuroiwa.”

“Oh, big brother!” Hajime called, having just noticed him. “Welcome home!”

Ryo stood in the doorway of his dirty kitchen, looking at all the members of two rival bands stopping mid-fight to turn towards him and the half-mixed cake batter in Hajime’s flour covered hands. He found himself smiling all of a sudden. “I’m home.”

For the first time in as long as Ryo could remember, he meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> I was so deprived of my Katayama brothers hug from the Ochanomizu Rock stage that I wrote this.
> 
> Have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


End file.
